


No way home

by Radamanth_Nemes



Category: Togainu no Chi
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2073237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radamanth_Nemes/pseuds/Radamanth_Nemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes this situation brought a cynical smile to Akira's lips. Today it was just melancholy. Because bitter memories after some time tend to appear sweet.<br/>Set after the Shiki wheelchair end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No way home

**Author's Note:**

> Tons of typos and bad spelling. I forgot how to spell. And I don't have anyone to correct my mistakes. Feel free to do so.  
> Written for a local contest, not sure if I will enter. I still want to write a Gintama and Sweet Pool fics so I'll decide which one I like better in the end.

 It was a beautiful autumn evening, red and orange leaves dancing in the wind, jumping from the soft green grass and rushing to the fading blue sky.

Akira averted his gaze from the window and shut it tight. He let his eyes wonder to Shiki who was a sorrowful shell of his former self, sitting lifelesly in a wheelchair. His beauty was now ephemeral as a doll's – porcelain skin, silky black hair, red eyes without a reflection, perfect nose and jawline. Shiki had lost a lot of weight during this last months of his catatonic state which made his strong hands delicate, wide shoulders became slouched and his thin neck showed all the tendons and blood wessels underneath it. Akira moved his hand to the lost strands of black hair that hung in front of Shiki's eyes, tucking them behind the ear.

„Time for a haircut I guess.“, he said softly. Sometimes this situation brought a cynical smile to Akira's lips. Today it was just melancholy. He left the room in search for scissors and a comb when he met his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His eyes dropped to the silver cross around his neck, his left hand unconsciously touching it. A nostalgic smile played on his lips, opening a path to a bitter sweet memory.

_The silver cross flung in front of his eyes, there was a familiar weight on his lap as Shiki was sitting on top of him and pulling his chin up with his right hand, looking down on him, challenging him._

_„Can you at least take off the gloves?“, Akira asked in annoyance, getting only a smug smirk from the dark haired man. The cross dissappeared from his sight, replaced by a hand wearing a black leather glove._

_„You take them off. With that foul mouth of yours.“ There was a playful tone in Shiki's commanding voice. Akira opened his mouth slowly, showing his teeth, nibbling on the seam of the index finger, tugging it gently. Shiki's left hand trailed slowly from Akira's exposed neck, down the torso, finding its way under the red shirt. His abdomen muscles flexed in response to the searching gloved fingers. He managed to get the right glove off and looked up to the dark haired man, waiting. Before removing his left hand Shiki tugged at Akira's belly piercing, teasing. The fair haired man was quicker with the left glove, wanting to feel skin on skin. Shiki pulled at Akira's grayish green hair and kissed him roughly, tounge and teeth, breathless. Akira was torn between unzipping his partner's leather pants and taking off his shirt._

_„In a rush, are we?“ Shiki said in a low voice and shifted their weight so he was now lying down on the bed, Akira straddling him. „Take off yours first.“_

_The room was getting dimmer now the sun was down, only traces of pale moonlight finding their way through the window glass. Akira took off his shirt and with Shiki's help the pants landed on the floor. He moved down, finnally unzipping the leather pants, his hand moving through the rough fabric untill it found Shiki's arousal. He gripped his cock at the root and lowered his mouth on it. No sound escaped the dark haired man, only a small change of breath. Akira's lips were moving up and down, not entierly slowly but not fast either, his tounge circling around. Not being able to endure any more, the fair haired man rubbed his crotch against the other mans leg, his rhythm following his head movement._

_„Now you don't mind the leather do you?“ The dark haired man looked as his partner in amusement and moved the wanting mouth from his cock, making Akira grunt. Shiki pulled down his pants a bit and removed his shirt. Before Akira could react, a small moan escaped his mouth as Shiki entered him without any preparation. The fair haired man fell towards the other's chest, his nails digging in the white skin of the soulders. He was held firmly at the hips so he couldn't move as he wanted, instead the dark haired man was fucking him, moving his pelvis from the bottom in a roothless pace._

_Akira fought the urge to close his eyes and let go to the numbing feeling of their bodies clashing. This was the first time he saw Shiki shirtless. Savouring the moment he looked down at the pale body beneath him. Scars, some red, some paler than the skin traced all over Shiki's torso. The dak haired man's movements were quicker and stronger, sending sparks up Akira's back. His nails dugged deeper into his partner's shoulders. He felt a hand pupming his memeber as he looked up wanting to see Shiki's face. His blue eyes met a slightly wet pair of red, parted lips and a trace of blood in white cheeks. Lowering his face Akira gently kissed the other man. For a split second surprize sparked in Shiki's eyes making him divert the attention by bitting Akira's lower lip, pulling him into a rougher kiss. He was fucking the other mercilessly, making the fair haired man grunt and bury his head in the nape of Shiki's neck, biting and moaning as he came. Seconds later Shiki slammed deep into Akira, a breath escaping his lips._

Akira opened his eyes and let go of the cross. He did not dare to look in the mirror, feeling wet trails on his cheeks and chin. They never talked about the scars. Now Akira is used to them like they are his own. He dried his face and took the comb, closing the door behind him.

 


End file.
